The Third
by Divagirl2
Summary: "That, Dean," he said, "is you and Sam's new baby sister." No one had been expecting the addition of a third Winchester, but once a baby girl is thrust rather abruptly into John's care, the broken family of three suddenly becomes four. And no one said that was gonna be an easy adjustment. Sisfic! Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**September 1987**

It was the knocking that woke John up.

It was insistent, and so powerful that the door of the cheap motel he was currently staying in shook slightly. Instantly, he was alert, making sure to be silent as he got up and grabbing his pistol from his nightstand in his short trek to the door. As he drew near, he unlatched the safety, his hand that wasn't clutching his gun extending slowly to twist the doorknob when...

"_John! _Goddammit, I know you in there! Open the door!"

He frowned at the sound of a woman's heavily accented voice, latching his gun's safety and tucking it into the small of his back before opening the door to see-well, he actually had no idea who he was looking at honestly. It was a woman, that much he knew, and a damn attractive one at that with an hourglass shape, olive skin, piercing blue eyes, and dark curly hair. She stared at him, her gaze somehow stoic yet terrifying all the same. In her right hand, she gripped the handle of a rather large object concealed by a blanket.

"Well?" she snapped after a moment of John's ogling, "You keep mentally molesting me or let me in?"

John blinked, snapping out of his stupor, "I-" he was cut off as the woman let herself in, shoving harshly past him. Not knowing what else to do, John closed the door before turning around to face the woman. The object she was holding had been placed on the floor and the blanket was removed to reveal an infant car seat. Inside it was a baby, clad in a white onesie who couldn't have been more than a month old. It wore a tiny white cap with small brown curls poking out of it and was soundly asleep. All the while he was examining the infant, the woman stared hard at him, her gaze unreadable. John cleared his throat awkwardly as he made eye contact, growing instantly uncomfortable as their gazes met.

"Um..congratulations?" John stated, unsure of how to start what was sure to be an awkward conversation.

The woman glared at him, "You no remember me, no?" she asked, though it came across more as a statement.

So he was supposed to know her then? "Uh, no. We've met?"

The woman scoffed, "I no surprised. You were...what you say, shitfaced, when we meet."

"Who the hell are you then?" John asked gruffly, his straight-to-the-point attitude revealing itself as he quickly grew tired of the confusion. If there was one thing John Winchester hated, it was not being in the loop.

The woman seemed unphased by his tone, "Who I am not matter. You not bother to learn my name first time we meet. This..." she gestured to the sleeping infant, "is baby. Name is Katarina. I no keep her."

Um...wow. Okay.

"Um, wow. Okay, and you've brought her _here _to_ me_, why?" John asked. The answer was quite obvious, but John wanted to hear it for himself anyway.

The woman rolled her eyes, not bothering to conceal her annoyance, "Baby created when we meet, John. I forge you name on birth certificate. She yours."

John was speechless. A baby? A _baby_? But...but he was always so _careful_! He already _had _two boys, and that, in John's opinion was more than enough. Dean was eight and had only just started the third grade, and Sam was four, practically still a baby himself! He was planning on leaving first thing in the morning to drive across country back to his sons in the motel he had left them in after finishing this most recent hunt, the hell was he supposed to tell them?

"I...okay. Um, wow. I...you-" John cleared his throat once again, "Have...have you considered, um, adoption maybe or...or a home? Maybe there's a relative you can leave her with...or a friend? An acquaintance maybe?"

If looks could kill, John would be a pile of ashes on the floor at that point.

"Baby _needs _father, John." the woman growled as if _he_ had suggested something blasphemous when _she_ was the one essentially dropping her child off for a stranger to raise.

"Yeah, well, some would argue that a _mother_ is even more important." John growled back. Honestly, who the hell did this woman think she was?

The woman huffed as she wrapped her arms around her midsection, "My fiance no want baby. Threaten to kill her if I no get rid of her. I no trust friends, family. System too corrupt." her gaze intensified as she looked at John, "You baby father, John. Last hope. If you no take her then she die. If she die then _I _kill you."

Now no one could let it be said that John Winchester was a coward, but at that moment, looking into that woman's eyes, he had no doubt that she would make good on that promise. He wouldn't go down without a fight sure, but she'd definitely do everything in her power to kill him. Still though...John Winchester wasn't one to back down.

"I don't think you understand what you're asking of me. You can't just...just show up at my doorstep and drop off some kid! I don't even-how the hell did you find me anyway?!"

The woman didn't react to his outburst, "I have methods, John. It no hard to find Hunter if you know where to look." At that last statement, John's eyes widened in shock. How did she know- "And anyway," the woman continued, "This not _some_ baby. This _your _baby. You responsible for her, John. Grow pair and take her."

And wow, was it possible to despise and admire someone at the same time?

"I-you-"

The woman ignored his stammering as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, "This baby's birth certificate. Birthday is October 31st." she said as she handed it to him. She then turned around and crouched as she faced the sleeping baby, murmuring what John assumed to be comforting words in what he identified was Russian and kissing her forehead before standing back up and turning back to John.

"You take care of her, yes?" she asked. She waited until John gave a single nod before walking past him and out the door, closing it behind her as she disappeared into the night and most likely out of her child's life forever.

John stood still for a long moment after the door closed behind her, the folded birth certificate in one hand as he stared at the infant, sleeping soundly and completely unaware of the bombshell she had just dropped on his life. It took an even longer time for him to regain his voice.

"So Katarina, huh?" John said, still staring at the baby. _His _baby. Hell, his _daughter_.

"Shit."

* * *

John was never one to shy away from long drives. He couldn't be, not with his profession. Being a Hunter meant that he had to be on the road more often than not, and though road tripping wasn't something he was overly fond of, it was something he had learnt to deal with. A necessary evil, one could say. After the death of Mary, when John had found himself to suddenly be the single father of a six month old Sammy and a four year old Dean, his travelling had to be kept to a minimum. For one, though he desperately wanted to hunt down and destroy whatever the hell killed Mary, he had no idea of how to do that. He was only just becoming a Hunter at the time after all, and didn't have the faintest clue of what lurked in the world of the supernatural, let alone of how to destroy them. Another reason was of course, Sam and Dean. Both children had just witnessed the death of their mother and though Sam was much too young to understand it, Dean was...well traumatized would be the only word to explain it. He had gone completely mute for what seemed like years, though in actuality it was only about six months.

Long story short, travelling with a traumatized four year old and a six month old...not a good idea. So you could probably imagine how he felt about travelling with a _one_ _month old. _The drive from his motel in Oakland, California to the one where his sons were at in Delta, Colorado was about a 16 hour drive, give or take a couple of minutes. Now under normal circumstances, John would easily make it 12, but that included breaking a number of traffic laws which probably wasn't a great idea with an infant in the car. So plain, law-abiding citizen it was. After fighting for a good 15 minutes to get the car seat securely strapped in and taking another 10 to get himself freshened up and all of his belongings in the Impala, John was on the road. He stopped briefly by CVS, picking up some diapers and all the other crap for babies that he remembered from Sam before continuing the long drive back to Colorado...and remembering _exactly _why he never wanted to have anymore kids. He had to stop at least twice every couple of hours to take care of the baby, whether it be to feed her or change her or friggin' look at her (since apparently babies got _lonely_). A drive that would've typically taken him half a day took him a _day and a half _and he _still _had no idea what to tell his sons.

It was midday when John arrived at the rundown motel in Delta, Colorado. He had barely pulled the Impala into the parking lot when one of the motel room doors opened, a small brown-haired blur raced towards him. John couldn't hold back his grin as he got out of the car and caught little Sammy in his arms, lifting him up high much to the delight of the four year old.

"Daddy, you're back! You left for forever!" he exclaimed.

John laughed as he placed the little boy back on his feet, "Yeah. Sorry about that kiddo."

John looked up as Dean approached the Impala, much more calmly than his brother (Dean always had been rather mature for his age, John admitted that was partly his fault) and gave John a hug as well.

"How'd it go, dad?" Dean asked, making sure to keep his question rather vague in consideration for Sam. It had been an unspoken agreement between he and Dean that they would keep Sam as far away from any knowledge about hunting for as long as they could. It was unfair to Dean that Sam got to have more of a childhood than he did, John knew, but once again, necessary evil.

"It went fine, son." John reassured, knowing that there was real worry behind Dean's casually phrased inquiry. He glanced back at the Impala, the engine was still running but was it still okay for the baby to be in there alone? Man, he was rusty.

"Dad?" Dean questioned. John mentally cursed at himself, he had forgotten how observant his eldest was. "Are you o-" Dean was cut off by a tiny cry.

John paled as both his sons looked at him inquisitively.

"What was that, Daddy?" Sam asked.

Dean stayed silent, but his raised eyebrow relayed the same question.

"Well, um," There was another cry, though it was steadily increasing in volume, "I had an, erm, situation and well..."

John didn't fight Dean as he walked past him and opened one the rear doors on the Impala, looking inside for a brief moment before looking back to John with wide eyes, "Dad, why is there a baby in the car?"

"A baby?!" Sam exclaimed, "I wanna see! I wanna see!" He scrambled to the open rear door, squeezing past Dean to look at the infant.

"Dad?" Dean asked again at John's lack of response. Sighing, John came to the realization that there was no sugarcoating this and went for his trademark 'straight-to-the-point' approach.

"That, Dean," he said, "is you and Sam's new baby sister."

**Hey so I am _in love _with Supernatural and just recently started reading some Sisfics so I decided to try out one of my own! Leave reviews to tell me what you think about this story so far! Also if anyone has any other title ideas for this fanfic it would be much appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**December 1990**

**Broken Bow, Nebraska**

"...and thus, for their wickedness and falsehood, they were punished with blindness for as long as they lived. The end."

Dean let out a silent sigh of relief as he closed the Grimm's fairytales book, "Alright, Kat, that's my end of the deal. Go to sleep." As he looked at his three year old younger sister, he could instantly read that she had no intention of holding up her end of the deal. Her turquoise eyes stared at him, stubborn and _awake_, much to Dean's exasperation, as she reached over and reopened the book.

"Again." she stated.

The eleven year old sighed, "_Kat_," Dean said exasperatedly, "we've already read this same story _three times _so far. Can't you just go to sleep?"

He stared at his sister with an almost pleading expression. Before Dad had left for a hunt a few days prior, he had put he and Sam through hand-to-hand combat training, which the two boys could agree was absolute _hell. _Being the oldest, Dad hadn't held back much on his strikes when sparring with Dean so he _still _ached and hurt in places that he didn't even know could ache and hurt. To summarize, Dean wanted to sleep. A lot. His sister didn't seem to agree, however.

"No," Kat replied before pointing to the book, "Again."

Dean groaned, "Kat. Go. To. Sleep." he commanded, doing his best to mimick Dad. Sometimes that worked on her...

"_Again._"

...But not tonight.

Turquoise met green as the two stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Dean sighed, accepting the loss.

"Honestly, what kind of three year old _likes _Grimm's fairytales anyway?" Dean muttered to himself before calling to his brother who sat in the small motel living room a short distance away, "Sammy!"

The seven year old looked up from a workbook he was writing in at the sound of his name, "What?"

"Come here and read Kat her creepy fairytales. I need to shower."

Sam groaned, "But Dean," he whined, "I'm _busy_."

"Sam, I think your nerd book will survive a couple minutes without you." Dean retorted.

Sam glared at his older brother, "It's _not _a nerd book," he said defensively, "I'm practicing my long division."

"Your long divi-dude, _I'm _learning that. The hell they teaching you in your class? You're only in the second grade." Dean asked incredulously.

Sam shrugged, "Ms. Day says I'm very good at math so she gave me this to practice with." he explained.

Dean stared at his brother for a long moment before shaking his head, "You know what? Just...stop being a nerd for a minute and come read Kat her creepy book. Geez, you guys are the weirdest kids I've ever met."

Sam let out an overly dramatic sigh but stood up and dragged himself over anyway. Dean stood as Sam approached, watching as his brother took his position at the edge of the bed that Sam and Kat shared and picked up the book, opening it to a doggy-eared page and reading it aloud.

"A rich man's wife became sick, and when she felt that her end was drawing near, she called her only daughter to her bedside and said..."

Satisfied, Dean walked out of the small bedroom and into the bathroom. Praying to a god that he didn't believe in as he turned on the shower, hoping that it wasn't all used up in Kat's bath and Sam's shower. He put his hand under the water, relieved to feel the lukewarm temperature. It wouldn't last long, but Dean would savor it anyway.

He stripped his shirt first, only wincing slightly from the pain that action brought, before removing his pants and boxers. Upon stepping into the shower, Dean felt immensely better. The water soothed his aching muscles tremendously, even at a lukewarm temperature. He honestly wanted nothing more than to simply stand there for hours, but resisted the temptation. He grabbed the cheap hotel soap bar, running it briefly under the water before rubbing it over his body. As he glanced down, he could see a multitude of fresh purple bruises littering his chest, arms, and legs.

_Ouch. _Dean thought, as if he were looking at another person. Well at least it was Christmas break, Dean could already imagine the multitude of questions he would get going to school like _this_.

The water ran cold and Dean turned it off, quickly stepping out and drying himself before wrapping the motel towel around his waist. He walked out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom, surprised for it to have gone silent and looking over to see both Sammy and Kat fast asleep, the book carelessly discarded on the floor. Dean walked over and fought briefly to get the sheets out from under them to put it on top before picking up the book and placing it neatly on the nightstand. He then walked over to the duffelbag carelessly thrown in the corner of the room, opening it and searching for a clean article of clothing. It took a while, but he managed to find a fresh pair of boxers along with sweats and an only slightly oversized t-shirt.

_I need to do the laundry tomorrow_, he noted. Dean made sure to check that all the doors and windows (or rather the door and window) were locked and latched shut and salted before making his way to the only unoccupied bed in the small bedroom, collapsing face first onto it with a relieved and comfortable sigh. His hand slipped under the pillow, feeling the comforting cool metal of his favorite knife before he closed his eyes, finally allowing the darkness to take over.

"Dee, Dee, Dee, Dee, Dee, Dee, De-"

Dean awoke to an external pressure on his chest. Blearily opening a sleepy green eye, he saw that the pressure was that of his sister, bouncing on his chest.

"Mmgh..." Dean moaned as he gently pushed his sister off of his chest and onto the bed, "Too early for this." he moaned as he turned so his face was in the pillow.

"Dude, it's noon." came the voice of Sam.

At that, Dean shot up. "What?! _Noon?! _When did _that _happen?!"

"About a minute ago." Sam replied.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Har, har. Smartass..." he grumbled, "Why didn't you wake me?"

"We tried. You were out cold."

"Like Sleeping Beauty!" Kat piped in.

Dean stretched his arms as he yawned widely, immediately regretting the action as he tried to conceal his reflexive wince, "Well...did you eat breakfast? Brush your teeth? Change your clothes?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Yeah, _mom_."

Dean gave his brother a one finger salute before climbing out of bed, helping Kat get down before walking over to the duffelbag and grabbing his last clean change of clothes.

"We need to do laundry." he said, reciting his mental note from the night prior.

"'kay." Sam agreed, "Hey, dad called." he said.

"Yeah? What'd he say?" Dean asked as he slipped on a plaid button down over his black t-shirt.

"That he won't be back for another week. Wouldn't tell me why when I asked though." Sam pouted at that and Dean could tell that he was sulking over that particular part. Sam was rather sharp for a seven year old and had caught on rather quickly that Dean and their dad were hiding something from him. What he couldn't find out though, no matter how hard he tried, was _what _they were hiding and that irked him to no end. At the rate Sam was going however, he would learn it pretty soon...not that Dean would be the one to tell him.

He shrugged as he pulled on his jeans, "Probably important." he stated, silently relishing in the annoyed glare his younger brother gave him. He pulled on his shoes and picked up the duffel.

"Alright. Laundry day. You know the drill. Throw your shit in the bag and ransack the place for any quarters."

Kat ran off to the living room with an excited squeal, checking the cushions for change while Sam gathered up the dirty laundry lying around the motel room before assisting Dean in checking the bedroom.

"Dee! Sammy! I find some! See?!" Kat proclaimed as she ran into the bedroom and held up two quarters. Dean placed them into his pocket before ruffling her already messy brown curls, "Good job, Kat. Now go check the kitchen, 'kay?"

"Mmhm!" Kat said as she raced off to the kitchen on a mission.

After fifteen minutes of searching, they managed to collect a total of eight quarters between the three of them.

"Dude, we might actually be able to afford soap." Dean stated as they walked to the Laundromat down the street from their motel.

"Can we get the flower one, Dee?" Kat asked.

"No." Both Dean and Sam replied in unison.

Kat huffed.

It wasn't too long later that Kat sat on top of a dryer, laughing as it shook while drying someone's clothes and Dean placed all of their clothes in one load into the washer, pouring some of the cheap laundry soap that he had purchased from the laundromat vending machine into the machine before closing it and setting it for half an hour. Sam sat in a corner, sulking.

Dean walked over and sat next to his brother while still making sure to keep a watchful eye on Kat.

"Hey. Reason why you're giving Batman a run for his money with all this brooding?" he asked.

Sam huffed, "No." he lied.

"So you just _like _acting like a little bitch?"

"Tch. Jerk."

Dean smirked, but stayed silent, knowing his little brother enough to see that he would break on his own pretty soon.

"Dad's not going to be back for another week." Sam said. _Bingo_, Dean thought triumphantly.

"So? Dad's gone all the time, Sam. What's another week?" Dean asked.

Sam glared at him, "So? Next week is _Christmas_, you jerk!"

Dean was silent, "Oh." _Oh. _How the hell had he forgotten about that? How the hell had _dad _forgotten about that? Shit, what the hell was he supposed to do for presents?

Sam huffed again and looked away, "See? You don't even care."

Dean sighed, "Sam. Of course I care. I'm sure dad cares too, it's just...you wouldn't understand, but dad's...work is very important. The only reason that he won't be here is because he can't, not that he doesn't want to."

Sam scoffed, "Yeah. Just like last year, huh? When we couldn't have a Thanksgiving because he was 'busy'? What is he even doing that makes him leave so much? My friend Frances' dad has a job that makes him travel, but he at least comes for Christmas."

Dean heaved another sigh. There was no getting through to his brother when he was like this. Everything Dean would say or do would be interpreted as an offense of some sort to Sam or be him 'siding with dad'.

"Hey," Dean said as he ruffled his brother's hair, "Christmas with me and Kat won't be so bad. Plus, you know dad, he'll probably feel guilty and I bet if you drop enough hints he'll probably get you that new Nintendo as an apology gift."

Sam swatted Dean's hand away, but looked at his big brother with a slightly hopeful expression, "Really?" he asked, successfully distracted.

Dean smirked, "Definitely, dude. So stop being a little bitch and help me watch Kat, okay?"

Sam rolled his eyes and glanced over at said sister, who had apparently grown bored of the dryer and now made a game of hopping from one machine to another-something that was bound to end badly.

Sam looked back to his brother with a small smile, "Okay."

* * *

"Dee! Sammy!" A week later, Kat ran from the motel living room into the bedroom, climbing onto the bed she and Sam shared and sitting on her brother's chest, "Santa came! Santa came! Santa came!" Having had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning with his brother watching Christmas movies (_"Die Hard" **is not** a Christmas movie, Dean." "Shut up and eat your popcorn, bitch"_), Sam was much too tired to get excited with his sister.

"Go 'way, Kat." Sam groaned, pushing Kat off of him as he rolled over in his stomach and pulled the covers over his head.

Kat wasn't discouraged as she climbed off the bed and ran the short distance across the room to her other brother. She climbed onto the bed and repeated the same action, "Dee! Santa came!"

Despite being even more exhausted than his brother- he had stayed up all night with Sammy _and _snuck out once his brother was asleep to steal presents-Dean couldn't help but smile slightly at his sister's excitement as he blearily opened his eyes.

Kat's blinding grin was what greeted him, "Dee! Santa come and leave Kissmas peasants! I telled you I was good! Sammy not wake up to see, though."

Dean glanced at the lump of covers that was his brother on the other bed and smirked, "Oh don't worry, Kat. Just get some cold water in a glass and give him a shower. That'll wake him up."

"Don't you dare." Sam protested, though his voice was muffled.

With a wide yawn and a quick stretch, Dean sat up and got out of bed, picking up Kat and holding her on his hip as he walked over to his brother.

"Hey," he said pulling off the covers, "Get up. Anymore beauty sleep and you'll be even more of a girl than you already are."

Sam grumbled and glared at his brother before begrudgingly complying, the Winchesters never had been morning people...well aside from Kat, that is. As the siblings entered the living room, Two put of the three were excited to see two well-wrapped presents in the living room- one with Sam's name scribbled on it and another with Kat's. Kat protested to be let down as Sam walked over to the presents, scrambling over once she was on her feet and ripping off the wrapping paper of her present as Sam did the same to his.

"A baton?" Sam said as he looked at his gift. Sure enough, it was a baton, complete with tassels and sparkles.

"A dolly!" Kat exclaimed excitedly, her gift revealing itself to be a Barbie princess doll.

As Kat marveled over her gift, Dean walked over to his brother, "Shit. They're chick gifts. Sorry, Sammy."

Sam shrugged, "At least I have something to beat you with now." He smirked as Dean threw him the finger.

"Hey," he said, suddenly remembering something as he ran back to the bedroom and grabbed a newspaper wrapped gift, "Here. Take this." he said, handing the gift to Dean.

Recognizing it as a gift that Sam had gotten earlier for their father with money that their Uncle Bobby had given him, Dean shook his head, "No. It's for dad."

"Dad isn't here. I want you to have it." Sam insisted.

Dean hesitated for a long moment, "You sure?" he asked.

Sam nodded, "I'm sure."

After another brief moment, Dean took the gift, unwrapping to reveal an amulet. Touched wouldn't begin to describe how he felt as he held the necklace, rather simplistic in design yet the most valuable object that he had ever received.

"Sammy I..." Dean paused briefly as his voice cracked and cleared his throat. Geez, there was no need for him to act like such a chick over it. "I love it," he finished, "Thanks." Kat appeared then, inadvertently breaking up what Dean would typically describe as a 'chick-flick moment' as she all but shoved her new toy into Dean's face.

"Can you open it?"

**So yeah, I realize that this chapter focuses more on Sam and Dean than their sister, but I just love their brotherly interactions so much and didn't want to kind of force Kat into the plot. I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter anyway! Leave reviews!**


	3. Chapter 3

**August 1992**

**Dripping Springs, Texas**

"Backpack?"

"Uh-huh."

"Pencils?"

"Yep."

"Paper?"

"Yeah."

"Crayons?"

"Umm..." Kat checked her bag for a brief moment, "Check."

"Mace?"

"Mace?" Sam echoed as he walked into the room, "Dean, why are you giving Kat mace? She's going to _preschool_." They had arrived about a week prior to their newest home in Texas with just enough time for their dad (with Sam's hassling) to enroll Sam, Dean, and Kat in school as the year came to a start.

"There're some real creepos out there, Sam. Other day a kid got kidnapped by some pervert and he was in _kindergarten._" Dean turned back to Kat, "Alright so you remember how to use it don't you? Just like I taught you."

Sam rolled his eyes as he placed his book bag down and walked over to the two, snatching the mace out of Kat's backpack, "Dean, Kat's not taking mace to preschool."

"_But why?_" two voices protested, one indignant and one whiny.

"Dean she's _four_!" Sam exclaimed.

"Other kid was five." Dean retorted.

Sam sighed, he loved his brother but sometimes... "Kat, no mace," he told his sister, "If someone tries to grab you just...scream stranger-danger or something."

"And kick 'em where the sun don't shine." Dean added.

Kat nodded before glancing to the couch, where their dad lay asleep in a drunken stupor, "Is daddy coming to take me to school today?" she asked.

Sam snorted, "I'd be surprised if he was awake by the time we got back." he remarked. "Ow!" he cried as rubbed his arm from where Dean had punched it.

"Maybe tomorrow, Kat." Dean reassured. Kat looked slightly crestfallen, but nodded anyway. Dean looked to Sam, "What about you? Got everything for school? Do you need lunch money?"

"I'm good." Sam replied as he shrugged on his backpack.

"Alright then," Dean said, picking up his own backpack, "Let's head out." Sam nodded and helped Kat put on her book bag before grabbing her hand and walking out the door. Dean watched as the door shut behind them, just about to follow when a thought came to his mind. He ran into the bathroom, grabbing a bottle of aspirin before going to the kitchen and filling up a glass with cold tap water. He placed the objects down on the floor next to his unconscious father, along with an empty pail just in case before running out the door, closing and locking it behind him.

* * *

"Blah blah blah, blah blah. Blah. Blah Blah, blah. Blah blah blah blah..."

Dean have a clue nor the slightest care of what his new teacher, Miss Whatever-her-name-was, was blabbing on about as she spoke to the class. Eighth grade would be a bitch, Dean already knew. The teacher had already given him the evil eye once he walked like, two seconds late, and on their seating chart (yeah, because they were apparently in kindergarten again), he was placed in the very front of the class, right next to the teacher's desk. He didn't even bother to pretend to be interested in what the teacher was saying as he rested his head in his hand, eyes drifting shut as he allowed his thoughts to wander. He wondered about Sam and how he was doing in the fourth grade. He was probably already ahead of the curriculum, Dean knew, his baby brother was smart like that, always had been. It had been evident from a young age that Sam had inherited the book smarts of the Winchester family, though with the addition of Kat, who knew? Maybe she would prove to be another genius. Anyway, though Dean had no doubt that Sam would keep up academically just fine, he worried about the relationships his brother would have. Sam had always been a victim of bullying, what with him being rather small for his age, and unlike Dean and their father, he was something of a pacifist, avoiding any confrontation until he was left with no choice. He also tended to seclude himself in his studies rather than attempt to make friends, something else that had alienated him from his peers. Dean also wondered about Kat, and how she would get on in preschool. With their nomadic lifestyle, Kat had never before gotten the chance to interact with girls her age, or any children really. He hoped that she wasn't like, super socially awkward or anything like that. Finally, he thought about dad, hoped that he had stayed asleep on his side rather than rolled onto his back just in case he threw up, wondered if he'd be sober by the time they got back from school or if he'd even still be there at all, wished that he'd stay long enough to make good on the promise that Dean had inadvertently made to Kat.

"Mr. Winchester."

Dean opened his eyes to see the teacher glaring at with a mixture of annoyance and anger. _Ah, there it is...the evil eye. I have a feeling that me and that look will get very acquainted this year._ Dean covered his mouth as he yawned widely, watching as that simple action lit a fire in the teacher's gaze.

"I am _so sorry_ to be interrupting your little catnap, Mr. Winchester." she said.

Dean shrugged, "Eh. Don't stress about it." he quipped, watching as the fire in the teacher's eyes turned into a raging inferno. Several students in the class snickered.

"Well Dean, why don't you pick up where I left off on the syllabus and read it aloud to the class?"

Dean glanced down at his desk to see an unopened thick packet of paper, entitled 'Syllabus'. Huh. When was that passed out? He flipped open the packet, seeing paragraph after paragraph of words in tiny print on every page.

"Sure. Um, where were we?" he asked.

"I was just going over the consequences of _not paying attention in class_." the teacher said, staring at him pointedly.

"'Kay. Cool." Dean said flippantly, turning to the page, "Okay...so it says something about three strikes. Mentions crap about detention and calling parents, getting a 0 participation grade, yatta, yatta...visit to the principal and what? _Saturday school?_ Well, _fuck that_."

"Mr. Winchester! Congratulations, you've just reached your second strike. One more and you're off to the principal's office on your first day." The class snickered again.

Dean sighed, slumping down in his seat. Yep, eighth grade was gonna be a _bitch_.

He was beyond grateful when the school bell rang at 3 PM. _Any longer and I might've just put an end to it all myself_, he thought as he walked out to the front. Students swarmed the small field, either loading the buses, hopping into their rides as they were picked up, or simply beginning their short walk home with friends. Dean himself began walking in the direction of the elementary school (which was thankfully a short distance away) to pick up Kat and Sam. Just as he was about to leave the school premises, he heard a _very familiar _honk. Turning around, Dean was shocked to see the clean black exterior of the Impala.

He couldn't keep the smile off his face as he rushed over to the car, opening the door and climbing into the passenger's seat. His dad grinned at him, looking freshened up and in a good mood. _So the drinking last night must've been celebratory drinking then, _Dean figured. Glancing back, he saw Sam and Kat- Sam with his face buried in some book he had borrowed from the school library and Kat playing with her favorite (and only) Barbie princess doll. John pulled out of the school pick-up zone, reaching over with his non-dominant hand and giving his eldest son's hair a playful ruffle as he drove.

"So how was your first day, kiddo?" he asked, glancing quickly at Dean but keeping both eyes on the road.

"Shitty." Dean answered honestly.

John glanced once more at his son, "Was it a student?" he asked.

"Nope. Just a teacher who is inhumanly resistant to my charms." Dean replied.

"So mean you got a teacher who doesn't deal with your BS?" John said, giving his son a raised eyebrow.

Dean scoffed, "Please. I'm a joy to be around."

"Yeah. When you're quiet." Sam muttered.

Dean spun around in his seat to glare at his brother, "Oh _shut up_ you-"

"Boys." John interceded. Instantly, Dean turned back around, sitting properly in his seat and both boys quieted save for one last remark.

"Bitch." Dean muttered.

"Jerk." Sam replied.

"What about you, Sammy?" John asked, "How'd your day go?"

Sam shrugged, finally looking up from his book, "Eh. Alright, I guess. Boring."

"Well, it's only the first day of school, sport." John said.

"Yeah but-" Sam cut himself off with another shrug, "I don't know."

Before John or Dean could ask him to elaborate, Kat jumped in, "Daddy can I stay home tomorrow?" she asked.

Dean instantly spun around at the ready. "Why? Did some punk try something? Do I need to hurt somebody?" he asked. John stayed silent, but his thoughts were running along the same lines.

"No," Kat replied, "But all we did in preschool was sing stupid songs, and play musical chairs, and take naps. Can't I just do that at home?"

Dean and John instantly relaxed, "Probably," Dean replied, "But you should go anyway. Enjoy it. Sounds a helluva lot better than the eighth grade, that's for sure."

"But-"

"You're going to school, Kat." John intervened, his tone leaving no room for discussion.

Kat huffed and crossed her arms, her tiny cheeks puffing and bottom lip sticking out in an adorable pout.

That evening was one of the Winchester's rare moments of fun. Instead of driving back to the motel, the family of four stopped by an Outback Steakhouse (since apparently the client from John's latest job was very wealthy and insisted on giving him compensation), and for what seemed to be the first time in forever, enjoyed a meal that wasn't greasy fast food. Afterwards, (at Kat's insistence) they stopped for ice cream and instead of having Sam and Dean practice their hand-to-hand, John stopped by the shooting range and had his boys practice their gun marksmanship (which was admittedly more fun for Dean than it was Sam, but his sons needed to have _some _type of training). After returning to the motel, however, as Sam watched his dad carry a sleeping Kat out of the Impala and helped her quickly wash up and change before gingerly tucking her in, he got the distinct impression that _something _was up.

Now Sam didn't like to think of himself as pessimistic person, sure, he wasn't exactly the optimist that Dean was, but he wouldn't say that he was _pessimistic_. Realist was the term that Sam would use to describe himself. Despite his young age and the idea that both his father and Dean seemed to carry that he was completely oblivious to the ways of the world, Sam was rather observant. This, coupled with his natural instinct to find out _why_ things were the way they were, gave him a level of perspective that made it easier to relate to others-something that both his father and brother lacked. So, in short, Sam knew his dad was planning to tell them something, something that they probably wouldn't like. That was why he was sweetening them up, trying to break the news to them as nicely as possible, as if one good meal and a lax training session would make the news any better. Sam watched as his father and Dean sat on the couch, laughing about something that Sam hadn't paid attention to. Guilt pooled in his stomach at the thought of ruining the moment. Though he desperately wanted to confront his dad and just get him to spit it out already, he couldn't ruin this for Dean, that'd be selfish. So he stayed quiet and waited, knowing that it was only a matter of time before his dad broke the news to them himself. It took a while, long enough for Sam to begin doubting himself, to wonder if he really was just being pessimistic but it was when dad stopped Dean just as he was about to head to bed that Sam knew it was time. Dad was going to break the news to them-no more fluffing, no more sugarcoating.

"I have a job, " he announced, "I'll be gone for a while, probably for a couple of weeks. I'm leaving first thing in the morning."

Sam scoffed at that because _of course_. He knew that it was coming, but that didn't piss him off any less. What kind of job did his dad even have in the first place?

Dean, always the quiet, obedient son, stayed silent, his facial expression not relaying even the slightest motion of protest. It was clear that he wasn't going to say anything, so Sam did.

"You _just _got back." he protested.

"Sam-" Dean began.

"No!" Sam snapped, "No." He directed the last part at his father as he glared at him.

"You've been gone for _three weeks_, dad. You just got back last week and now you're leaving again? For _another _couple of weeks? What about-what about Kat? Weren't you supposed to take her to school tomorrow?"

His dad was getting frustrated, Sam could tell, but he was too angry to care.

"This is more important, Sam." John said sharply.

"Oh, I bet it is!" Sam said, his tone just as sharp, "A lot of things are, aren't they _D__ad_?"

"The hell is that supposed to mean?" John's tone was growing angry.

"It _means _that you're out doing...whatever you do more than you're here. With _us_."

"Don't question things that you don't understand, Sam."

"Oh, I know more than you think, Dad."

"Hey!" Dean's voice cut through their steadily rising argument, "Sam, go take a shower. Chill out." he commanded.

Sam didn't care too much for his tone, "I-"

"_Sam._" And it was then that Sam heard it, the underlying desperation, the _pleading _in his brother's tone and he felt some of his resolve weaken.

"Fine." he said before storming off, the bathroom door slamming shut behind him.

Dean sighed. He loved Sam, but why did he have to get more and more challenging with their father as he got older? Dean stayed silent as John grabbed his duffel and walked out, not even bothering to go over the routine with Dean like he usually did. The door slammed shut behind him and it was moments later that Dean heard the rumble of the Impala as it drove off.

When Kat awoke, it was to complete silence. Immediately, she knew something up.

She turned in the bed, seeing big brother Sam fast asleep on his side of the bed before looking across the room and realizing why it was so quiet. Her biggest brother Dean wasn't in his bed. He made funny noises with his mouth while he was asleep that Sammy said was just 'him snoring like a pig'. Kat sat up, making sure to stay quiet so that she didn't wake Sammy up. That was weird, Dean was usually the _last _one to wake up. She positioned herself so her feet were dangling off the bed, sliding down until they hit the carpeted floor and then quietly pit-pattering out of the room. Upon walking out, she saw Dean sitting at the small kitchen table, his face buried in his hands. For a moment, Kat stared at her brother, wondering if he was asleep until as if sensing her stare, Dean lifted his head up, looking directly to Kat. He smiled at her, but Kat noticed that it wasn't one of his usual smiles. She smiled back, however, as brightly as she could. She then walked over, climbing onto the chair across from him.

"Hey, Kat. You hungry?" Dean asked, but before Kat could even give an answer, Dean was already up, grabbing their half-eaten box of Lucky Charms along with a bowl, spoon, and milk from the fridge.

"I don't want cereal." Kat grumbled. Honestly, the only thing they'd had for breakfast for the past couple _weeks _was cereal and Kat was sick of it.

Dean placed the bowl in front of her as he poured in the cereal and then the milk, "Well tough, this is all we have so eat or starve."

Kat begrudgingly began eating her cereal, knowing that she didn't have any real choice in the matter. The one time she had chosen starve Dean had practically force fed her anyway. As she ate, she looked around the room, noticing the absence of their father.

"Where's Daddy?" she asked.

Dean was silent for a moment before answering, "He had to go, Kat. An emergency at his work came up."

Kat frowned at the news, "Why didn't he say goodbye?" she asked. Daddy _always_ said goodbye. Even if it was an emergency.

Dean went quiet again, "He'll be back, Kat." he said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

That wasn't what she was worried about, Kat wanted to say. She had no doubt in her mind that Daddy would come back. Daddy _always_ came back. He usually didn't leave so suddenly though, not without saying goodbye, not without Kat giving him her special hug. She wanted to ask what happened because something _did _happen- Dean was acting too weird for things to be completely normal- but seeing the look on Dean's face, she knew better. She may not have known _why _she knew better, but she did, and disregarded the question sitting anxiously at the tip of her tongue.

It was lucky for her when another question took its place. "We're not going to school today?" she asked.

Dean shook his head, a small smirk appearing on his face, "Nah. Figured we all needed a break after our hectic first day."

Kat had no idea what 'hectic' meant, but agreed completely. "Okay!" she chirped cheerfully, taking another bite of her cereal. Anything that involved no school was fine by her.

"Hey, don't get used to this, okay?" Dean felt the need to clarify, "This is a one time thing. You're going back tomorrow."

Kat sighed, "Fine." she said defeated, as if it had even been up for negotiation in the first place. Sam walked out then, all bed head and bleary-eyed.

"Hey," Dean greeted, though Kat noticed there was something...off about his tone. Were they fighting? "We're having cereal. Want some?"

"Not hungry." Sam replied as he sat on the couch, flipping on the TV. Yep, they were definitely fighting. But over what? Everything seemed fine yesterday...

Dean didn't badger him to eat, which was an immediate red flag to Kat.

"Where's dad?" Sam asked as he surfed through their limited TV channels, trying to find some type of cartoon.

"He left." Dean replied, his tone entirely different with Sam than it was with Kat. It was...empty, scary almost.

Sam went quiet for a moment, "Tch. Figures."

Dean stood up then, both hands clenched so tight that both his knuckles were white. Sam turned around to look at his brother, an unreadable expression in his gaze. The two locked eyes for a moment before Dean stormed over to the door, grabbing a pair of boots.

"Watch Kat. I'm going out." With that, he stormed out, pajamas and all, the door slamming shut so hard behind him that it rattled.

The room was filled with a tense silence.

"Sammy...?" Kat asked after a long moment, her voice unsure and confused.

"Finish your cereal, Kat," Sam said in a surprisingly soft tone, "I'm gonna go shower."

When Sam came out of the shower nearly fifteen minutes later, Kat was sitting on the couch, watching an episode of Scooby Doo. "Hey," he said to gain her attention, handing her a fresh change of clothes and underwear. "Think you can take a shower by yourself?" he asked.

Kat glared at him as she took the offered clothes, "I'm not a _baby, _Sammy." she replied, indignant.

Sam smirked, amused, "Right. Well call me if you need any help, alright?"

Kat only gave him the evil eye before disappearing into the bathroom.

The moment the door closed behind her with a soft click, Sam sighed, allowing the turmoil of emotions to wash over him. Frustration, anger, concern, but most of all, guilt. He hadn't meant to drive Dean away. Hell, or dad for that matter. He only wanted...well, he wasn't sure of what he exactly wanted, but it definitely wasn't _this. _He glanced at the door, half hoping for Dean to walk in, hit him, and forgive him. His anger towards Dean was displaced, he knew that but...man. Was it really so much for Dean to speak up against Dad for _one time_? Maybe if Dean had said something, then Dad would've stayed, even if just for a bit longer. Sam couldn't help but laugh quietly at the irony of it all, in an attempt to get his family together, to get them to be _normal _for a change, he had single-handedly torn them apart. He sighed, collapsing onto the couch and saw something slip out from under one of the cushions. Curious, Sam pulled it out to see that it was a book, slightly worn with a brown leather cover. He opened it, surprised to see his father's name scribbled on the corner of the inside cover. As he flipped through the book, he saw page after page of his father's messy handwriting. Sam snorted, was this a diary? A loud noise came from the bathroom.

"Kat!" he called, "You good in there?!"

"I'm fine!" Kat's small voice yelled back.

Sam drew his attention back to the book, shrugging before getting comfortable and opening it to the first page.

"Are monsters real?" It wasn't until late that night, long after Dean had returned and Kat was tucked in bed that Sam gained enough courage to ask. Reading Dad's book had been...shocking to say at the least and Sam's initial reaction had been to deny it. I mean, _monsters? _They didn't exist! And there was no way that one had killed his mom. It was just...a simple house fire. A simple, tragic, but totally explainable house fire. The more he thought about it, however, the more it made sense. The training, the weapons, the weeks away for a mysterious 'job', the salt lines at the door and on the window sills, it wasn't normal. But all of Sam's life, he had unconsciously rationalized the strange quirks of his family. Dad taught he and Dean how to fight for self-defense, the weapons were only a precaution, the weeks away were to go to a business conference or something, the salt lines were just some sort of weird superstition crap that Dad had picked up somewhere. After reading the book though, it was as if everything had clicked into place. _Monsters. Dad hunts monsters._

Dean looked to Sam with a raised eyebrow, "What? You're crazy." he asked. And typically, that would've been enough to make Sam back off. Dean looked at him as if he were crazy, as if he had just asked something completely unbelievable and in a way, he did. But now Sam knew it was an act, knew that Dean knew _exactly _what he was talking about because he was in on it too, wasn't he? There had always been an unexplainable connection between Dean and Dad, some type of secret that only the two were in on. Now, Sam knew what it was...or at least, he _thought_ that he knew what it was, unbelievable as it was. But Dean wouldn't acknowledge that. No, he'd keep playing dumb until he knew for sure that Sam knew. Sam needed to prove it to him. So he pulled out the journal, certain now that Dean knew as his eyes widened in shock.

"Where'd you get that?!" Dean exclaimed, "That's Dad's, Sam! He's gonna kick your ass for reading that!"

"Tell me." Sam said, his tone leaving no room for Dean's usual BS as he looked at him intently. He knew that he had worn his brother down when Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair nervously before meeting his Sam's gaze.

"Yeah," Dean said quietly, "Dad fights them."

Sam was quiet for a minute, taking a moment to process that yes, monsters were real, like really real and his dad was apparently a male bastardized version of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Then another thought came to his mind: if monsters were real, and Dad fought them, then they probably _really _hated him, right? So what was stopping them from coming after them? He voiced as much to his brother.

"It's not like that," Dean said, making sure to stare his brother straight in the eye as he said this because Sam _needed _to know, "Dad's fine," he reassured, "You're fine. I'm fine. Kat's fine. Alright?"

Sam stayed silent as he looked away, his thoughts spinning in a direction unpredictable to even him. _Monsters, _he thought, _Friggin' monsters. _Honestly, why couldn't Dad have a simple and safe office job?

"You okay?" Dean asked and Sam couldn't answer that honestly, had no _idea _how to answer that honestly so he stayed silent, settled for a simple nod.

"Fine." he muttered because he had no choice but to be, didn't he? It wasn't like he could just up and leave or magically make all the monsters disappear. And God knew the epic fight that would erupt if he tried to convince Dad to stop hunting them. He sighed. Yep, just like every other hurdle, every obstacle, every dislike that Sam ever had to encounter, he'd just have to deal with it. Because he was a Winchester, and that's what Winchesters did.

**Review, review, review! I hope you guys liked the chapter! So we got a little bit more of Kat in this chapter and I bet you can see where I inserted a bit of cannon into my story (I did it in the last chapter too if you didn't notice). For fans of my other story 'Congrats! It's a Girl!', an update is coming I promise, it might just...take a while longer than anticipated (I've got a nasty case of writer's block).** **Anyway, I'd like to thank my (two) reviewers for this story! **


	4. Chapter 4

**September ****1993**

**Blackhawk, South Dakota**

Kat glared at the foe before her with the intensity of a thousand suns. She just. Didn't. Get it. What were they playing at? She scanned her opponent for what felt to be the hundredth time, wondering if she had missed something important. Unsurprisingly, she came up just as empty. She growled in frustration, clenching her fists. Why was it so hard to comprehend? Was it just messing with her? She glared harder. _Give it up, _she thought, _I'm onto you._ Her opponent wasn't phased.

With another growl, slightly louder this time, Kat slammed the workbook shut. It was official. She hated math.

She noticed Sam's stare then, an amused expression on his face as he stared from across the table, paused in his own homework. "Do you need help, Kat?" he asked.

Kat directed her glare at him, "_No._" she replied, "It's stupid. No one can do it."

Sam smirked at the five year old, "Well, it can't hurt for me to look. Lemme see."

Kat sighed before reopening her kindergarten workbook and flipping to the assigned homework page, handing it to Sam. Sam looked at it for a moment, barely stifling a laugh. "You're struggling with _addition_?"

"Shut up!" Kat snapped, "It's hard! Why is there a first aid symbol between the two numbers anyway?!"

Sam couldn't hold back a laugh that time, "A first aid- _pfft. _That's called a plus sign, Kat. It means to add the numbers together."

Kat wasn't following, "Which means...?"

"It means to take the first number, which in this problem is 5, and combine it with the second number which is 3." Sam explained.

Kat frowned in confusion, "53...?"

Sam sighed, "No. Just...hold up five fingers, alright?"

Kat nodded, counting out the fingers on one hand before holding it up.

"Alright, now on your other hand hold up three."

Kat complied.

Sam nodded in approval, "Good. Now count the number of fingers you have on both hands all together."

"Okay, um, one...two...three...four...five...six...seven...eight."

"Good! You just did addition." Sam explained.

Kat's expression lit up with understanding, "Oh. So _that's _what you meant by 'combining the numbers'."

Sam frowned as a thought dawned on him, "Didn't you learn this at school?"

Kat went quiet for a minute as she thought back to the other day. Hmm...well, her teacher had been talking about _something_, but Kat was too focused on her drawing for Daddy to really pay attention. She shrugged, "I dunno. Maybe."

Sam gave her _the look_. "Kat, you have to pay attention in school."

"_But why?_" she groaned, "It's so boring."

"Damn straight." Dean said as he walked in through the front door, "Sam, don't turn Kat into another nerd like you."

"Yeah!" Kat said in agreement.

Sam rolled his eyes as he handed Kat back her workbook, "I thought you were going out?" he asked.

"Yeah, to get you dinner." he said, tossing Sam a bagged sandwich, which Sam caught. "Eat your vegetables." Dean added, also tossing him a bag of Funyuns. He walked over to the table and placed another bagged sandwich along with chips in front of Kat.

"Wasn't Daddy 'posed to be back today?" Kat asked as she unwrapped her sandwich.

"He'll be here, Kat." Dean replied offhandedly as he sat on the couch, turning on the TV and surfing the channels for anything good on.

"When?" Kat persisted.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Later." he said with a tinge of annoyance in his tone.

"_How _later?"

"I don't know, Kat! Okay? He'll be here when he's here. Now shut up and eat your food." Dean snapped.

"Hmph. Meanie." Kat grumbled as she took a bite of her sandwich.

Not too long later, Kat was fast asleep in bed and Dean was bored out of his mind. Channel surfing hadn't proven to reveal anything good on the TV and the entire world was practically dead to Sam as he read some book so it wasn't like Dean could tease him or anything. For a moment, he thought about just hitting the hay early but decided against it. He was way too wired to sleep anyway. What he needed was to get out. To do something, anything, that involved being out of this stupid motel room-- even if it was only for an hour or so. And he did remember seeing an arcade only a block or so away while he was out earlier... He stood up, walking over to the door and grabbing his coat. He glanced at Kat, still fast asleep, then at Sam, who hadn't even noticed his movement.

"Sam. Sam, hey!" Dean snapped his fingers until his brother looked up.

"Dean, what--where are you going?" the ten year old asked.

"Out." Dean replied, putting on his coat.

"But Dad said--"

"I'll only be out for a minute, Sam. And the arcade is only a block or so down the street." Dean cut in.

"You're going to an arcade?" Sam asked, "Can I come?"

Dean hesitated, glancing at Kat once more as she shifted in her sleep. He hated to leave her alone, but it wouldn't be for long, right? And it wasn't like she'd be doing much of anything. Plus, he'd lock the door, check the windows, salt any possible entrances into the room, everything would be fine. He shrugged, "Sure." he replied.

Sam stood up, joining Dean at the door and grabbing his own coat and shoes. Dean made sure everything in the motel room was secure before he and Sam walked out, locking the door behind them.

An hour at the arcade turned into two and then three and then three and a half until the manager finally had to kick them out. The walk back was pretty uneventful, until they arrived that is.

The door was open. Both the boys hearts stopped upon seeing that, completely sure that they had locked it when they left. That could only mean that someone...or something had gotten in. Though both their hearts were stricken with fear, they slowly crept into the room, Dean making sure that Sam stayed behind him the whole way. As they stepped inside, Dean slowly grabbed the loaded emergency rifle at the door, he and Sam slowly creeping towards the room where Kat slept, pushing open the door to see...a thing hovering over her. Kat was still unconscious-- it was a running joke amongst the family that she could sleep through an earthquake (actually had once, that one time they were in California. Granted it was a small one, but still). However, Dean got the sneaking impression that this sleep was anything but natural as she didn't even stir when the thing stroked her cheek. It was hooded, so neither he nor Sam could make out any features, but as Dean raised the rifle and released the safety, it looked to them, revealing terrifying glowing eyes and a hideous face as it hissed. Dean froze.

"D-Dean," Sam whispered from behind him, his voice trembling in fear, "Shoot it."

It was as if Dean was paralyzed as he stared into the eyes of the thing. It's terrifying, terrifying eyes. _This is it_, he thought, _It's going kill Kat. Kat is going to die because of __**me**._

"_Dean._" Sam whispered again, more urgently.

Dean couldn't move. Suddenly, the door slammed open as their dad rushed in.

"Move!" John yelled as he raised his handgun. Both Dean and Sam threw themselves to the floor as John shot at it once, twice, and then a third time. It screeched, jumping out the window. John walked over to the window, shooting at it a couple of more of times until he was sure it was gone. Then he rushed over to the bed, tossing his gun aside as he took Kat in his arms.

"Kat. Kat! Hey! Hey, baby, hey." John hugged Kat tightly as she finally stirred.

"Daddy? Wha's goin' on?" she asked, her voice slurred with sleep.

"Hey, you're alright, okay? You're fine." John said instead, holding her tight against him. Once he was positive his baby girl was okay, he looked to his sons.

"What happened?" he asked, well demanded would be the more accurate term.

Before Sam could even think of anything to say, Dean stepped forward, making sure that his haze met his father's as he replied.

"I--I stepped out a-and I took Sam with me. It was only for a second though, Dad! I--"

John wasn't having any of it as he glared furiously at his eldest, "I _told _you not to leave the room. You were _supposed _to watch them. _Both __of them_."

"I know, I--"

"Do you _realize _what would've happened if I'd gotten here later, Dean? _A second later?_"

Dean bowed his head, ashamed. _Of course_ he realized what would've happened. He couldn't stop thinking about it. Kat would've...she would've-- Dean couldn't allow himself to finish that thought. _That _would've happened to her and it would've been all Dean's fault. He just..._stood there_. Like a coward. Had the gun in his hands and everything but just _couldn't do it._ Couldn't kill the thing that had broken into their motel, even if it was going to kill Kat. Useless. That's what he was. _Completely useless. _He'd been on hunts with dad before, been on them since he was nine, but he'd never had to actually had to _kill something. _Dad always took the lead, always left Dean in charge of something trivial, like cleaning the weapons or making sure they were loaded or on the rare occasion that John was seriously injured, driving them to safety. He'd never thought much of it though, always assumed that he'd just automatically do what was necessary--even if it involved taking a life-- if things came to it. Obviously he was wrong.

"I asked you a _question_, Dean."

Dean's head automatically snapped up at his dad's authoritarian tone, back straightening as he once again locked gazes with John, "Yes sir." he replied.

Sam couldn't take it anymore. Dad was acting as if he wasn't even there, as if this wasn't his fault just as much as it was Dean's. And Dean...Dean was absorbing all of it. Allowing each and every one of Dad's words to seep into his mind, beating himself up even more than he undoubtedly already was.

"Dad," he spoke up, "It was my fault too, I--"

"Sam, take Kat and go wait in the car." John cut in.

Sam felt slightly peeved. Seriously? Was dad not even going to _acknowledge _him? "But Dad--"

John looked to Sam, his gaze entirely serious and implying that he _was not _in the mood for their usual 'John vs. Sam' showdown. "Samuel. _Now._"

Sam straightened, smart enough to know when to back off (at least _most _of the time). "Yes sir." he replied, treading over and taking a still confused and slightly disoriented Kat into his arms and walking out to the still-running Impala out front. Kat fell back asleep almost immediately after they got in the car. Sam wasn't sure whether he should be concerned about that, but upon checking her and seeing that her breathing was even and her pulse was strong, he decided that it was fine, probably a side effect of whatever that thing did to her. He'd just make sure to check on her _very often_. Sighing, Sam leaned his head against the window, staring at the motel as he wondered what Dad was saying to Dean, how Dean was taking it. Mentally, he scoffed at that. He knew _exactly _what Dad was saying to Dean, and just how _well _Dean was taking it. Though a small part of him was grateful that he was out of the fire, he couldn't help but feel like absolute crap that Dean was in there alone. If he was in there with Dean then he'd at least be able to take some brunt of whatever Dad was saying to him, take some of the burden off of his brother. It was another fifteen minutes before Dean and Dad emerged from the motel, both carrying a duffel packed with their things.

As they loaded into the car after loading everything into the Impala's trunk, Sam couldn't find it in himself to be upset at yet another move in the midst of the school year as he stared at his brother, doing his best to gauge his emotions. Dean, of course, didn't make this easy as he sat in the passenger's seat, his face blank as he stared out the window, the only emotion showing being worry as he glanced back at Kat every so often.

Sam yawned, sparing once last glance at Kat as he began to doze off himself. _She's fine_, he reassured himself. _Dean's fine too. _That last thought was a lie, and he knew it, but Sam stubbornly forced himself to believe it anyway. _Everything's fine._

* * *

"You're leaving with Daddy too, Dean?" Kat asked, her stunning turquoise eyes wide as she stared at her brother.

Dean packed the last of his things into his duffel before standing up, slinging it over his shoulder. He walked over to Kat, ruffling her brown curls. "Yeah. But it won't be for too long. You be good for Sam, alright?"

Kat pushed his hand away, "I'm always good. When'll you be back?"

"I already told you."

"No. You said that it 'won't be for too long.'" Kat retorted.

Dean sighed, "I can't give you a day, Kat. But I'll be back soon, alright?"

Kat huffed, unsatisfied with the answer but accepting that she wouldn't get a better one. "Okay."

Dean knelt down, giving his sister a quick hug before looking to Sam, who currently lay on the couch sulking.

"Hey, I'm heading out." he announced.

Sam huffed. It had been a week since the incident with Kat and after getting settled in a new motel and re-enrolled in a new school, Dad had found the nearest hunt, demanding that Dean come along. He hadn't explicitly said that it was a punishment, but everyone (sans Kat) knew that it was.

"This is stupid," he couldn't help but say, his tone bitter, "It's not like what happened is completely your fault."

Dean sighed. He was done with arguing with his brother over this.

"Love you too, Sammy." he said instead.

John walked in then, "Let's get a move on, Dean."

Dean nodded, giving one last glance to his siblings before walking out to the Impala. Sam stood up as his father called him over, dutifully listening as he went over the same rules that Sam had heard him go over with Dean at least a thousand times.

Kat ran over to John once he had finished, giving him a big hug.

"Bye, Daddy." she said.

John smiled warmly, "Bye, princess." He looked over to his youngest son, "Bye, Sammy." he said. As expected, Sam barely acknowledged him.

"Yeah." Sam muttered.

John smiled at his son before walking out, the door closing with a soft click behind him. Sam sighed. Despite his grudge, he couldn't let that be his parting words to Dad and Dean. He ran out the door, waving farewell to the departing Impala.

"Bye!" he yelled. _Be safe_, he thought worriedly.

Sam was bored. Like out of his mind, no joke, bored. Kat was watching TV. Some girly cartoon that annoyed Sam to pieces, but kept her quiet so he dealt with it. He had read all of his books at least three times over and after that latest debacle, he didn't dare to step outside of the room. It had been only a couple of days since Dad and Dean left and already Sam was losing his mind. If he wasn't taking care of Kat, he was worrying about Dean and Dad, and if he wasn't worrying about them, he was bored out of his mind. Kind of like right now.

More than ever, Sam wished that they had a normal life. That he didn't have to take care of his five year old sister while worrying about his father and brother getting mauled by some type of monster. He wished that he had stuck around at schools long enough to make friends, so that he could call them and talk, have some sort of distraction from the whirlwind of chaos that was his life. He sighed. _Should've, would've, could'ves of the world. _He thought.

"Hiya!"

Sam yelled in surprise, spinning around and randomly swinging at whatever perpetrator had broken into their room. _How in the world-- I didn't even hear anything! _

"Whoa!" the intruder yelled, stepping back and narrowly missing the strike, "Now, now, Sam, no need to act so brash!"

_He knows my name?! _Sam sprinted over to the couch, reaching between the cushions and pulling out a handgun, aiming it at the intruder.

"Wow! Okay, is that really necessary?" the intruder said, raising both arms defensively.

"Who are you?!" Sam demanded.

Kat walked over to her brother then. "Sammy? What--"

"Stay behind me, Kat!" Sam said, pushing her behind him. He refocused on the intruder and released the safety, "I said _who are you?!_" he repeated.

The stranger stepped back, "Okay! Okay! I'm Sully!"

"Sully?" Sam repeated, not lowering the gun. He examined the stranger. It was a man that seemed to be in his late twenties to early thirties that had a rather round figure and wore a striped yellow and white shirt with the most ridiculous pair of overalls.

"Why are you here?" he asked, not lowering his guard despite the man's seemingly harmless appearance.

"Sammy," Kat spoke again, "Who--"

"Not now, Kat!" Sam interrupted.

"I--I only want to be your friend!" Sully exclaimed.

Sam blinked. Oh. _Oh._

"So, what, you're...you're some type of pedophile? Get away from me and my sister before I call the cops, you creep!"

"Wait, _what? __No! _Oh nonono. Not like, in a creepy way or anything. I just...you're lonely, right? With your father and brother gone?"

Sam narrowed his eyes, "How did you know--"

"You told me!" Sully said, "Well, kinda. I sort of pick up on these things, you know? I...it's complicated. But I'm not here to hurt you or your sister."

"_Sam!_" Kat exclaimed, finally gaining her brother's attention, "_Who are you talking to__?! _"

Sam blinked, his guard lowering for a brief moment as he looked back to his sister. "Kat? What do you mean? He's right there."

Kat frowned, looking to where Sam was pointing, "Sammy, there's _no one there._"

Sam frowned, "You mean you don't see him?" he asked. Kat shook her head. Sam looked back to Sully, "She can't see you?"

"Not unless I want her to." Sully said.

"_What _are you?" Sam asked, finally lowering the gun.

"Well...I guess you could call me an imaginary friend."

"An imaginary...? I'm _ten_. I'm way too old for that." Sam said.

"You're never too old to be lonely, Sam." Sully replied.

"Um...okay. Right." Sam said, relatching the safety of the gun and tucking it back between the couch cushions.

"Sammy?" Kat spoke up, "Are you okay? Maybe I should call Daddy and De--"

"No!" Sam protested, turning around, "Kat, I'm fine. I _promise _I'm fine." He looked back to Sully, "Can you make her see you? Or is it just limited to, you know, my imagination?"

"Sure thing, Sam!" Sully chirped. There wasn't a ritual, or spell, or even a dance that Sully did, but apparently he had done _something _because a moment later Kat gasped in surprise.

Sam looked back to his sister, "Can you see him now?" he asked. Kat nodded wordlessly, her gaze set on Sully.

"You good?" Sam asked. Kat nodded again, this time looking to Sam.

"Your friend looks silly, Sammy." she stated.

Sam nodded in agreement and for a moment, there was silence as the two siblings stared at the strange man in bewilderment.

"So," Sully said after a moment, uncomfortably, "Whatcha' wanna do?"

**So, we meet Sully in this chapter, yay! And little Kat has her first encounter with the supernatural (even if she won't remember it). So you can see where I added my little twist by kind of screwing with the timeline and making Kat the Shritga's victim instead of little Sammy. Initially, the plan was to make Sam the victim since I kind of wanted to follow cannon as much as possible but upon watching that flashback scene, I saw that he only looked like five when that happened which is coincidentally Kat's age in this chapter so... Anyway, o****nce again, I hope you liked the chapter and review, review, review, please!**


	5. Chapter 5

"Okay, I got one." Sam said as he and Sully each lay upside down on individual beds, staring at each other.

"Hit me."

"Ever think...you can fly?" he asked.

Sully didn't hesitate in his response, "Sometimes," he replied honestly, "Like on really windy days."

Sam laughed, "Kat tried to when she was like three. Nearly broke an arm. Dean just about had a panic attack. Dad was _pissed. _It was hilarious."

"That is funny," he said with a chuckle, "What about you?"

"Me? I used to. But I _actually_ broke my arm."

Sully laughed boisterously at that. Sam smiled and glanced at Kat, who was passed out in a sugar coma on the couch. It had taken Sully a lot of warming up, but after further convincing Sam that he had no intention of hurting he or Kat, he had insisted on making snacks. Those snacks had turned out to be a multitude of various chocolates, candies, and what Sully claimed was his trademark dish 'marshmallow and candy nachos'. Needless to say, Kat had been in absolute heaven, and after running amuck for about an hour in a massive sugar high, she had crashed and burned.

"Your turn." Sam said.

Sully sat up in thought, and seeing this, Sam did the same, turning so that the two were facing eachother. "Ever think..." Sully said, "That you can eat ten waffles in one sitting?"

Sam shrugged, "I hope so when I'm big," he replied, "Can you?"

Sully sighed, "I tried. Once." He then dramatized retching noises. Sam laughed, which was soon joined in by Sully.

"Ever think..." Sam said, taking on a more serious note, "About running away?" It was a thought that had plagued him for many months, something that he had always thought about, planned even, but never had the courage to actually do. It was always his own excuses that stopped him from doing so- Dean would be worried and do something irrational, Kat would be alone when Dad and Dean left for a hunt, Dad would eventually find him and make his life even more of a living hell.

Sully didn't seem to understand the deeper meaning as he shook his head, "From you? No way."

"No," Sam clarified, "I mean, from _here_. All of this," he paused before continuing, "The...hunting life."

Sully paused, finally understanding what Sam was implying. He was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Do you?" he asked.

Sam stayed silent, wouldn't, _couldn't _bring himself to speak, to say the actual words aloud. So he nodded.

Sully's expression turned more serious as he thought about what to say to that, came up empty. "Hmm." he said instead, "Ever think...then maybe you wanna go to school? Make some friends?"

_Of course I think about that_, Sam wanted to say. He thought about it everyday, every second while they were on the road, while they were leaving his school, his teachers, his not-quite-but-almost friends behind. Sam wasn't like Dean, or hell, even Kat, who could make friends in the couple of weeks they were at a place and then just as easily say goodbye. He wanted to be like that, he really did, but he guessed that he just inherited his father's more antisocial tendencies, pulled the short end of the straw in sociability. But he had Sully now, even if he was imaginary, and that was all the friends he needed.

"I have you." he replied.

Sully smiled and let out a small laugh, "Yeah." he agreed, "Yeah you do. But one day you won't."

Sam frowned. The hell was that supposed to mean? He had literally just met the guy today and he was already planning to dip out on him? Could imaginary friends even _do that_?

Sully leaned forward, his tone serious, "Sam, I want you to listen to me. You can be _whatever _you want to be. You're not Dean. You're not your dad. You're Sam." Sully smiled then, his tone once again turning jovial, "Sam is _so awesome._"

Sam smiled at that. "Can you imagine running away?" he asked, "My dad would _kill _me."

Sully shrugged, "It's _your _choice, Sam." he said, "It's your life. I mean, it's all up to you."

Sam looked to Sully, stared into his trusting gaze, thought of how _nice _it would be to just get away, almost _agreed_ even but...then he looked to Kat. His baby sister, his _only _sister, and only younger sibling for that matter. He thought of how she would wake up in a few hours after he left, how she would be all alone, confused of what happened to her big brother whom she _trusted_. How she would probably assume the worst, probably call in Dad and Dean, maybe even go out in search of Sam herself. He thought of how vulnerable she looked at the hands of that monster not even a full two weeks ago, how, for a brief moment, he was sure that she was going to die, how it would've been his fault because he wasn't there to _protect _her. Sam wanted to leave, even if it wasn't forever. He wanted to leave _so badly_, but he couldn't. No, he wouldn't because even if his life was crappy motel rooms and monster hunting and no friends, it was _his life_, and he'd never be able to leave that behind. No matter how hard he tried.

"I wouldn't have anywhere to go anyway," he said, giving Sully a small smile, "But hey, we can still hang out here, right?"

Sully returned the smile, "Right." he replied.

It was another couple of days before Dad and Dean returned from their hunt. Their arrival was perfect timing, since Kat had begun to go a little stir crazy and if Sam was being completely honest, he was too. Unlike Kat, however, he had restrained himself from almost literally bouncing off the walls but... he was still ten at the end of the day. And a ten year old could only cope with being cooped up in a cramped motel room for so long. Especially when they also had to deal with their incredibly annoying and antsy five year old sister. Needless to say, when Sam was pouring himself a bowl of cereal to eat after having to practically _beg _Kat to eat her breakfast (which he totally didn't get since she _always _listened to Dean), he was more than relieved to hear the familiar rumble of the Impala pulling up outside. Kat had apparently heard it too as she looked away from the TV, which was currently playing a rerun of Disney's _The Little Mermaid_, and to the door as the knob twisted shortly after.

"_Dean!_" she exclaimed in excitement, not even allowing her brother to fully enter the room before running over and latching onto his legs. Sam noticed as his brother winced at the impact, but in typical Dean fashion, hid his discomfort quickly enough and smiled as he affectionately rubbed Kat's head. Examining his brother, Sam could tell even from the distance they were standing at how... _beaten _he looked. His hair, which Dean had practically began _obsessing _over since the 7th grade, was a disheveled mess and Sam could tell that he hadn't gotten much sleep the last couple of days given how sunken in and dulled his normally vibrant green eyes were. His bottom lip was also cut as if he had chewed through it, a habit that Sam had seen his brother do on the rare occasions that he actually allowed himself to express severe pain (in his own twisted, self-destructive way of course).

"Daddy!" Kat yelled, snapping Sam from his thoughts as she unlatched from Dean and ran to John, who had come in behind. Dad barely had enough time to drop his stuff to the floor before Kat barreled into him, laughing as he lifted her high up in the air. Sam examined his father as well. Like Dean, he looked rather worse for the wear. Sam frowned, what kind of hunt had Dad taken himself and Dean on?

"Hey." he said, walking up to his brother.

Dean grunted in reply as he dropped his bag to the floor, collapsing onto the couch as threw an arm over his eyes.

Sam looked at his brother with concern, "Are you-"

"I'm fine, Sam." Dean cut in.

Well that was complete BS if Sam had ever heard it before. "Sure." he said, actively restraining himself from asking the dozens of swirling questions in his mind. He looked to his father as he opened the fridge, rummaging for something before slamming it shut.

"We don't have anymore beer?" he asked Sam.

Sam shrugged, "You didn't buy some before you left." he replied.

John grunted, "I'm going out." he announced. Sam didn't even bother to mention the fact that it was eight in the morning as he nodded. "Okay." he said.

"Bye, Daddy!" Kat waved.

The second John was out the door, Sam looked back to Dean. Dean pretended to not notice him. Sam continued staring. Dean ignored him. This went on for one, two, three minutes when...

"Argh! Dammit, Sam! I told you _I'm fine!_" Dean exclaimed, removing his arm to glare at his brother.

Sam raised an eyebrow, "How was it?" he asked.

"Fine, Sam. Everything is _fine_." Dean replied.

"Where'd you go?"

"Out."

"Dean."

Dean sighed in exasperation, "Fine. We went back, okay? To look for the...the thing that almost got..." he trailed off as he glanced at Kat.

Sam's gaze lit up in understanding, "So did you get it?"

Dean huffed in frustration, "No. It wasn't there. Vanished. Didn't even leave behind any tracks."

Sam frowned in confusion, "So what happened to you, then?"

Dean groaned, "_I'm fine._"

Sam was unrelenting, "That's not what I asked."

"Dad found another hunt, okay? We went there instead, tracked the thing, and I killed it, alright? Geez. Anything else you'd like to know, princess?"

With the way Dean said it, it would have been so easy to miss it. Anyone else probably would have too. Hell, if it wasn't for Sam's observant nature, _he_ would've missed it.

_"I killed it..."_ Dean had...Dad had _forced _Dean to...to take his first kill? Red hot rage boiled up in Sam and at that moment, he wanted nothing more to storm out that door, find out whatever shitty bar their Dad had gone to and...and...he didn't even know what he wanted to do to him, he was so mad. He forced himself to calm down though, or at least conceal that rage, because Dean needed him right now. Even more than Dad needed a serious ass kicking.

"Where is it?" Sam asked, straightforward because he _really _didn't want to play his brother's games right now.

"The hell are you talking about?" Dean said.

"You know what," Sam replied, "The _injury_, Dean! The one that you're dead set on hiding from me. Where is it?"

"For the millionth time, Sam, I'm-"

"Do I really have to body check you?" Sam interrupted, "Because that'd be awkward for the both of us."

"It got _one _good hit in, Sam. And obviously, it wasn't even that good since I'm still kicking. Plus, Dad patched me up and-"

"Let me see it." Sam cut in.

"Sam-"

"_Dean._"

Dean grumbled, recognizing a losing battle when he saw one, and begrudgingly, he tenderly removed his shirt to reveal a long ugly gash across his chest sewed together with tight and uniform military-style stitches.

Sam gasped softly, "Shit, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Sam, I'm-"

Sam glared at him, "Shut up. I'll be right back." he walked into the bathroom.

"Are you okay, Dean? How'd you get your owie?"

Dean jumped at Kat's voice. He had completely forgotten that she was even there for a moment. He looked down at the five year old, only standing a foot away from him as she stared up at him with large, tear-filled turquoise eyes. He forced a smile through the constant ache of his wound, trying to look as reassuring as possible.

"Oh, this?" He said, his tone cocky, "It's just a scratch, don't worry. Looks a lot worse than it actually is."

Kat frowned, "Really? Cause it looks pretty bad..."

"Hey," Dean said, comforting, "I'm fine."

Kat looked unconvinced, "That's what you told Sammy and _he _didn't believe you."

"Yeah, well, Sammy's wrong."

"But you say that he's super smart _all the time_. Daddy too. And doesn't that mean he's usually right?" Kat refuted.

"That's different."

"How?"

Dean groaned. What was this? An interrogation? All he wanted was to come back to some peace and quiet and sleep for a thousand years, was that so much to ask? Sam returned then, holding a first aid kit.

Dean groaned again. "Oh my god, Sam. I told you Dad took care of it."

Sam was unphased as he pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a face towel, "Dad stopped you from bleeding out. You still have to worry about infection and keeping it clean until it's healed." he said.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Fine. Give it to me, then. I'll do it myself."

"No." Sam said simply as he doused the towel in the alcohol and began gently dabbing at Dean's chest.

"When the hell did you become my mom?"

Sam ignored him as he continued in his task. Dean huffed, looking peeved though he was inwardly grateful towards his brother. The simple act of moving had been absolute hell for him since getting this wound. He leaned his head back so it was against the couch as he closed his eyes, trying to will the memories of exactly how he got injured away so that he wouldn't think of what happened _after_ that, how he had grabbed his knife and... _Shut up._ He told himself. He didn't want to think about it and as far as he knew, that was the perfect excuse to not think about it. He was fine. He was safe and _that _was over and he was with Sam and Kat and Dad was at a nearby bar, completely safe. He felt something soft thrown over him and it was only then that he realized that Sam had somehow managed to both clean _and_ bandage his wound without him noticing. Usually he'd chastise himself for such a lack of awareness but at the moment he simply couldn't bring himself to care. He subtly snuggled into the blanket, finally allowing himself to fully relax and his mind to go blank.

Yep, he was completely fine.

**So we got to see more of Sully and Sam interactions (and for those who didn't notice, I referenced to Sam's flashback of Sully in episode 8 of season 11 except with my own little twist towards the end). Anyway, we also got to see a little bit of angst from Sam and Dean and more adorableness from Kat! I hope you liked the chapter and remember, reviews are always welcome!**


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